


to love and to cherish

by Lambourn



Series: Vows [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Alex Manes, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Everything I write is going to have some feels and angst in it, Explicit Sexual Content, Handprint, Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Just a lot of sex here, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, POV Alex Manes, Post-Season/Series 02, Praise Kink, Rimming, alien short refractory times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lambourn/pseuds/Lambourn
Summary: This picks up almost immediately after "in sickness and in health" [trojan horse] my post season two big bang.It's basically unapologetic happily-ever-after porn with a mention or two about the plot.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Vows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093370
Comments: 47
Kudos: 123





	to love and to cherish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [southern_stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/southern_stars/gifts).



> So unfortunately the first anons I received when my big bang went live were a little rough. You read a few, and then that little mailbox lighting up on tumblr starts to give you anxiety. The first kind anon I received after the batch of questionable ones, was this one: “You tell us how they fuck like rabbits, and then deprive us of reunion, “I’m so glad you’re alive,” handprint, ✨feelings✨ sex.”
> 
> It was sweet and made me laugh, and then upon reflection I agreed, you guys deserve that after the angst. In the midst of writing it, I found out my lovely anon was H, the writer of “i feel like i’m in paradise.” So this is for you. Repaying your kindness to me with porn. 😂
> 
> Enormous thank yous to tasyfa - who despite my using 3 grammar bots, still had her hands full with this!

Alex was absolutely prepared to die here and now.

Hot, soapy water came up to his ears in the new, frankly indecently-sized bathtub that Michael had installed sometime during the last two months as part of his minor upgrades to the house. Three people could probably squeeze inside it in a jam, while it was perfectly sized for two people, even two men built like them. And all of that was to say, its size suited Alex fine. The oyster-color fiberglass tub stretched broadly enough for a bench on either side with jets positioned for optimal pressure. The final, most important feature was the tub sported a heater to keep the water hovering above the threshold of steamy comfort and under the mark of uncomfortable boil. All around the tub were beautifully carved driftwood hand-rails, sanded to satin smoothness, sealed in a high gloss against moisture, and situated perfectly with Alex’s mobility needs in mind.

It was a bit of a ‘beg pardon rather than ask permission’ from Michael. He had done that to the house while Alex had floated, dead in a pod, healing from the retrovirus Clay had introduced into his cells. Michael had confessed to finding all of Alex’s bathroom renovation plans by accident. A craving for pizza triggered the disclosure as Michael had wanted to order the same type they had shared that first night he had planted himself in Alex’s life again, out of nostalgia. Giving Alex a mock glare about his need for better organization, especially considering his formerly regimented life as an Air Force officer, Michael had explained he had dumped every drawer in the kitchen, fishing through old bills, slips of jotted-down grocery lists before his hand had landed on two sets of documents. Alex’s will naming Michael as sole beneficiary of his estate in the case he wasn’t able to be revived, and a scribbled over set of plans to adapt the house to accommodate both Michael’s presence (expanded closets) and his leg (a therapy tub and shower bench).

After their first bout of love-making, Michael had confessed into Alex’s ear as they both caught their breath, “ _I put those renovation plans into motion, and I’m not sorry about it. In fact, if it pisses you off, good, because I was so fucking mad at you, that you made a will out, that you thought we wouldn’t be able to save you, what the fuck, Alex, what the actual fuck, I don’t want your money if you’re gone-”_ Even as Michael had cursed him, he felt from the handprint how deeply terrified the thought of his permanent death had left him.

Maybe it was the handprint, or maybe it was the fact he had indeed survived a wild and insane gamble with death and an alien pod, but that voice inside of Alex, that had emphasized exacting control over his environment, was entirely silent as he took in the changes Michael had made to his house. His entire being vibrated in concert with Michael’s emotions of love, relief, hope, and desire; the old insecurity and fear were nowhere to be found.

Or maybe it was the experience of soaking in this tub, with Michael seated behind him and the heavy scent of crisp pine from the bath salts, the wet-green note of rain in the air, that had made any objection feel one thousand miles away. Alex let out a long soft exhale as he rested his head back on Michael’s shoulder, bonelessly relaxed under the encompassing heat and water.

“So I take it you’re not mad,” Michael observed lightly, as he picked up a washcloth to rub gentle circles on Alex’s chest. The residue of the silver-enzyme needed to enter and exit the pod had long since washed away, but still Michael kept up a meticulous care in bathing every inch of Alex’s body. He’d never been more loved and cherished under Michael’s hands before.

“No,” Alex drawled out, as Michael rubbed the rough terry-cloth up over his nipple. The last syllables dissolved into a moan at the touch, as his skin tightened under the stimulation. “Impossible to be mad when I feel this good. You feel so good.”

“Maybe I should keep a handprint on you all the time. You’re so agreeable right now, I like it. So like when I do laundry and fold your clothes the wrong way-”

Alex chuckled, knowing exactly what Michael was referring to, but he was still unable to muster much of a glare in his relaxed state. “You never worked at GAP, so there’s no excuse for how you roll shirts up into short stacks.” It probably wasn’t fair to remember but at first Alex had considered Michael was purposely folding his uniform shirts that way as a silent sabotage, to remove the needed creases, before he had realized that the laundry style had been adapted from his life with the small drawers of the Airstream. At least he hoped it was the Airstream, and not hints of Michael’s past coming forth when he hopped from foster placement to foster placement as a child with only a black trash bag in hand.

That thought, heavy with an old sorrow for how much Michael had struggled as a child in the system, was also hard to hold onto as Michael sent waves of _‘home’_ and _‘safe’_ through their connection.

With only a hum of acknowledgment, Michael continued the teasing-but-not strokes against Alex’s skin. He traded the washcloth for a loofah sponge, dipping it into the soap, and then drew a long slow brush down Alex’s arm, picking up his hand from the water to carefully wash between Alex’s fingers. Behind him, he felt Michael’s breathing, the touch-not-touch of skin propelled by respiration against his back, and the slowly hardening prod against Alex’s ass. He wasn’t far from that same state himself despite their earlier exertions. Alex tilted into it, rubbing his cheeks lightly against Michael’s slick erection, letting his cock slip between. Fuck. As Alex shuddered, Michael moved to chase the sensation, using his erection to press upward to tease lightly at Alex’s hole even as his attention remained on Alex’s nipples. This time it was without the washcloth or a sponge as a separation, but just Michael’s fingertips, stroking and pinching lightly in response as the flesh pebbled under his attention.

“Yes,” Alex gasped, answering the comment belatedly. Yes was to everything at this point. He didn’t often offer that up without qualifications, but it was hard to notice anything but the good now.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you should keep a handprint on me, always,” Alex clarified weakly, holding on to his sanity with his teeth buried deep into his lower lip. Michael paused, and a sense of guilt darkened the edges of warm possession thrumming inside his heart, bringing Alex back down to earth as he sorted through Michael’s reaction. “No, no sweetheart, nothing bad, it’s because your love feels so good. It’s like finally looking into a mirror and seeing my own heart reflecting back, instead of my anxieties.”

Unspoken was that late night confession after Caulfield.

While the winds had picked up and the rain had started to pound on the thin tin roof of the Airstream, and Alex had admitted during that interval of sanity, how tight a stranglehold Jesse Manes had on him still as an adult. That was then and he was dead now. Still, the hold would probably never vanish completely, instead it would always leave a mark on Alex, like the watermark circle of a careless wet glass on unfinished wood. He could paint over it, as he did over those months with Forrest after the funeral, or the way he had, when he had lost himself with Michael on leave during his past service and overseas postings. None of that changed the fact that when Alex was stripped down of that first layer of shields, the mark left behind by his father was impossible to avoid.

Michael, not shying away from his imperfections as others had, like dropping a coaster over them to mask them to the more sensible masses, instead he traced over them with a reverent touch. His fingertips ghosting over those marks left by Jesse, both invisible and otherwise, reaching upward to the scar on his forehead, and down to the vulnerable vein of Alex’s carotid. In his wake, a balm of understanding both physical and from the handprint connection.

Love. Relief. Fierce protective furor. Then finally the coppery taste of forgiveness blended with regret pressed against Alex’s heart. “I told you, you’re too hard on yourself,” Michael replied hoarsely, bending his head down to kiss the soft unguarded skin behind Alex’s ear.

“Mmm,” Alex agreed deep in his throat, tilting his neck into Michael’s mouth, “No more Air Force now, so I’m serious. Mark me whenever you want. Do whatever you want to me.”

Michael raked his teeth over his earlobe inciting another shiver of desire from Alex, “Whatever I want? Really?”

Buoyed by the depth of his devotion, as the mark whispered all of Michael’s secrets into Alex’s heart, Alex replied to him frankly, “Whatever _you_ want, _I_ want. I want to feel you all over my body the way I do right now over my heart.”

Again, he felt Michael still his movements behind him in thought. The emotions from the mark were more unfocused now, there was lust of course, but trepidation and concern threading behind it in an uneven tapestry. His hands never stopped trailing up and down Alex’s sides, snaking under the water to touch from chest, to hip, to down the firm corded muscle of Alex’s thighs, strong from his physical therapy and adapted gait. The thick weight of Michael’s erection slipped back from between his legs and bumped lightly against Alex’s hole as he pulled him closer. Alex turned his head back, chasing Michael’s lips for a kiss to chase away the concern.

At least this time he knew why Michael was hesitating in his acceptance of Alex’s offer.

As familiar as they were with each other’s bodies, it was impossible to hide just how hard Alex had to work to find that place of free-fall, blank check, anything goes, type of trust in sex, even with Michael. The tangled knot of anxiety no doubt started with the legacy of his first sexual experience bearing the scar of violence and ended with the still evolving relationship Alex had with his body regarding accepting pleasure. It was so much easier for Alex to concentrate on Michael’s pleasure first, to find comfort and control in driving Michael crazy, instead of sitting back and letting it happen to him. Even that hadn’t been easy to obtain for Alex.

The summer before Alex had buzzed off his hair and his personality to enlist had largely been spent working past his panicked gag reflex with Michael as they had soaked up any free moment they had with quick pleasure, easily attained with their boots still on. The legacy of worry over the risk of interruption. With Michael’s busted hand complicating handjobs, it had made sense for Alex to teach himself to suck cock. Logical.

Chloraseptic spray on his throat, over-the-counter lidocaine on the back of his tongue, it had been a slow, slow trial of frustrated tears and dogged determination for Alex to let his mouth and throat be a vehicle of pleasure to Michael, and to overwrite the memories of his father choking him into unconsciousness. Coaxing a 17-year-old Michael to accept a blowjob had been harder than Alex had expected after the first time had ended in a panic attack, and Alex sobbing with rage. They had fought that summer about Alex pushing himself almost as much as they had over the eventual enlistment in the Air Force and Michael’s sudden unexplained estrangement from Max Evans.

“Gonna have to say the words, Alex,” Michael finally said out loud, as he moved to wrap his palm around Alex’s cock to hold firmly in the bath. He stroked upward in one fluid motion of his wrist, sending all sorts of fireworks up and down Alex’s spine. He continued off-hand, voice mildly strained with their movements, “‘Cause, you know whatever you want, I’ll give you. I’m probably still open from the last round, I could turn over the side of this tub and you could just slide in and take me here, if that’s what you want.”

As delicious as the impulse was to touch Michael, to check if he was still loose from their passionate reunion after coming home, where Alex had held Michael’s thighs apart with both palms as he drove into him, he held onto that first desire he had. To be completely surrounded, inside and out, by Michael. To mold his body into the same shape of the emotional resonance from the hand print.

So. He could say the words. He could.

“You’re mine, I know, but I want to feel like I’m yours. I want you…” Alex stumbled, the words coming slow, the bright, helium buoy of how badly he enjoyed this fought with the old weight of how he had been conditioned to think of the act as one of vulnerability.

A real Manes Man wouldn’t hunger for this. A real Manes Man, if he had to engage in such acts, would be the one calling the shots. Fuck. He’d died for this man, for Michael, he had actually _died_ because of the Manes Man bullshit, Alex would be damned if he would let it stop him now. They had done it before, this way, usually after Alex had had a lot to drink beforehand to quiet his demons. Surrounded by Michael’s feelings, the handprint, it was a different sort of intoxicant, cutting him loose from those heavy emotions. “I want you to get me ready, with your mouth, then I want you to fuck me.”

“My mouth, huh?” Michael tested, even as his hand never stopped holding Alex’s hard cock. “You want my mouth there? Eating that sweet ass of yours?”

Alex flushed, hoping the heat of the water hid his reaction to Michael’s skillful coarse language. “I do.”

“How do you want to come?” Michael swiped his thumb over the head of Alex’s cock, eliciting a full body tremble from Alex as he asked the question conversationally. He noted how close Alex was and let go of him, choosing instead to soothe the shudder with his palm, rubbing back down Alex’s thigh.

The touch skated down to the end of Alex’s residual limb, stroking gently over the scars and muscles before coming back to hold Alex tightly against him. Michael snaked both arms around, pulling him tightly against his chest in a moment of different desperation. The mark from his resurrection gleamed on Alex’s damp skin, the root behind the insecurity. As he held Alex, his erection never waned, present and impatient pressed against Alex’s pernieum, with the water of the tub drawing away the slickness of pre-cum.

“Don’t care. Make me come as many times as you want me to.” He looked around the bathroom furnishings, as beautifully done as it was, and turned his head to meet Michael’s whiskey dark eyes to advise, “Don’t want to ruin this gorgeous floor, so you should take me to bed.” Alex shifted around, tucking both thighs around Michael’s waist as the water sloshed in response. “Then _take_ me.”

Michael smiled slowly, and studied Alex’s face for further clues. Another check in. The mark sang sweetly of desire but still had that fragile concern for Alex’s well-being. God, he didn’t deserve such a compassionate man, he thought. It was fair though, Alex in the past, had firmly rejected the idea of being carried with telekinesis or even Michael’s strong arms, because it challenged his wary scars of his childhood. Never let someone see weakness, and leaning on someone for help only telegraphed his defensive gaps, a real man was self-reliant. Another toxic thought.

He lifted his arms around Michael’s neck and repeated deliberately firm, “I mean it. Take me. I’m yours.”

It was the echo of the future Alex thought. The reverberation of the words through the mark traveled from the tips of his fingers and down to the end of his left leg. The power of his vow followed Michael’s emotions from the connection, hand in hand. _Yours. Mine._ One day, band against band, ring against ring before their families, stitched together but perfectly in the weft of their love. One day soon.

That was the end of caution. Michael brought his hands down to hold Alex against him, cupping his ass securely in his strong grip, before standing up in the tub. Michael hefted Alex’s weight easily with his arms and his telekinesis. A large bath sheet moved under an invisible force from the towel bar to wrap around them, mopping off the trails of water as Michael stepped gingerly outside of the tub. There wasn’t a bobble in his movements as he carried Alex from the bathroom to the bedroom safely in his arms.

The sheets had been changed from their earlier exertions while Alex had been filling the tub for their soak. The fresh, clean cold cotton was like heaven against his bath-heated skin as Alex was laid down gently on the mattress. Michael draped the towel over him, and roughly rubbed down Alex’s naked body, mopping up the excess droplets, before drying himself briskly in turn. With a touch of telekinesis or a very accurate throw, Michael sent it sailing into their hamper.

He took a moment to enjoy the sight of Michael, standing before the bed, gloriously bare.

In the two months Alex had spent in the pod, it was clear that Michael had lost weight during that time. With each inhale, hints of his rib cage pressed outward, too noticeable, while his golden skin stretched tightly over his frame. It was a troubling flashback to their first time in high school, or that time when they were about twenty, and Alex had come home for leave during February to find Michael thin like a late winter wolf. Michael had reluctantly confessed to saving every nickel he had for a bank-foreclosed Airstream, stretching meals past comfort again and all Alex could do then was over-order takeout while complaining about base chow halls killing his appetite.

Even if he was a little leaner than Alex remembered, Michael was still so beautiful. Sharp hip bones covered with the hint of muscle, corded with lean strength in his arms and torso, mesmerized him. The dark scattering of hair down his chest thickened into a line that led to his hard cock that strained up against his lower abdomen. Alex swallowed the rush of hunger that made his mouth water and watched him with dark eyes, as Michael stepped back toward the bed. What beauty. He was a lucky man.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Michael whispered, crawling to cover Alex’s body.

Afraid that Michael had caught the train of his thoughts over what the time in the pod had done to Michael, Alex replied as quietly, “Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me, when you’re the one on the menu tonight.” Michael dipped his mouth down to lay slow, suckling kisses over Alex’s chest, traveling deliberately with the rasp of teeth over every swell of muscle, every dimple of the sculpted strength in his upper body, built carefully to support himself on his crutches.

The mark was colorfully vibrant over Alex’s heart, a shifting mix of iridescent shades in a perfect five-finger display. As Michael drew his tongue over the L-dip of the index finger to thumb shape shimmering on Alex, drawing a soft cry of need in response, he murmured, “Wasn’t sure what this would feel like for you, the handprint, I had to make sure I didn’t touch your nipple when I brought you back. I know how sensitive you are there.”

Alex felt himself leaking against Michael’s leg, the brush of their cocks together sending another jolt of arousal in his veins. The impulse to hide from this pleasure, to flip Michael on to his back to take control back, squirmed under the weight of how freeing it was to experience. He had at least to comfort himself, the undeniable evidence of Michael’s enjoyment flooding into his senses from the mark.

“Sensitive everywhere you touch me.”

Michael smirked with pleasure at the compliment, a wave of preening accomplishment echoing inside of Alex, before he wrapped his lips around Alex’s nipple to lick firmly. Reflexively, Alex’s hands moved to Michael’s damp curls, fisting his fingers through his soft thick hair and held Michael in place under his motions, the lick, the kiss, and the bite on his skin.

He couldn’t keep the noises inside under Michael’s sweet torturous mouth. “Fuck, fuck, Michael-”

Letting go of Alex, Michael blew against the reddening mark that now brushed against the edges of his handprint. Another wave of satisfaction and sweet possession swept over Alex, oh god he had no idea that Michael had that sort of impulse inside him. His erection jumped at the thought of Michael letting it out now.

“We haven’t gotten close to that,” he teased Alex.

“Gonna kill me,” escaped thoughtlessly from Alex’s lips. Almost as soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake as a black cloud dropped over him swiftly. Guilt, unassailable and thick like tar, chased away the bright sparkling arousal. “Sorry, shit! Goddamn it-!” Before Alex could fully descend into self-flagellation, the cloud moved, lightening to a gray regret, then a pink chagrin as Michael realized how much of his response had been telegraphed to Alex. The fact Michael had quickly diminished his emotions to protect Alex was both sweet but concerning to him.

There was no closing the connection.

Alex used his grip on Michael’s curls to guide him up to his lips. “I really am sorry,” he breathed against Michael’s mouth before following up the apology with a kiss. Alex pressed forward with the kiss, chasing after that fleeting bruised feeling, pooling blood dark inside of Michael. After a moment, Michael opened, letting the kiss deepen, accepting the apology as he always did, as some afterthought that wasn’t actually needed by him. It was an observation that Alex tucked away for later, much later, to explore with actual words.

For now, the champagne lightness was back inside of Alex as they traded achingly deep kisses between them. The mood recovered bit by bit as Michael broke the kiss, pressing his mouth back down on the handprint and intensifying the connection for a moment, before he moved southward. He followed the line of rippling muscles until his mouth hovered just above Alex’s cock. There was a moment to prepare before Michael’s hands moved down to Alex’s hipbones for a tight grip, and he dove down, mouth open and hungry.

Fuck. The mark sang in response and Alex was again lost in the feedback from Michael. He was a kite caught in the wind, the rapid loud patter of a gust beating against the sail, as Michael’s mouth moved over his cock. His hot, tight throat hugging close as he swallowed around Alex’s cock. Returning to those damp curls, Alex threaded both hands into Michael’s hair and flattened his back against the bed as he lifted into the welcoming caverns of Michael’s mouth. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum-” he warned, already so close to the edge.

A wave of welcome met his words. It was if he could perceive the meaning from Michael, _do it, cum, want it, want you._

“Oh god, you want it there? You want me to come down your throat?”

Another push of excitement, a jettison of desire hit him, lifting them both upward into new heights within the connection.

It was hard to keep his hips from lifting and grinding up into Michael’s messy mouth, saliva slipping freely down as he opened wider in his throat again until the press of his lips met the firm base of Alex’s cock and groin. Alex breathed a curse, tightening his fingers and followed the encouragement that hit his senses to let go and cum. _First of many,_ Alex understood as he looked down at Michael’s dark eyes, already wet from his efforts to breathe and swallow around the dick in his mouth. “God, you look so good, you feel so fucking good, taking me like this. So good, you’re just so good.”

Pleasure rained down him, both inside and outside, from the praise as the sensation of the handprint resonated that back to him.

Michael’s hands moved from his hip bones, stroking up and down his legs, encouraging them to wrap around Michael’s head as he swallowed. “Oh god,” Alex choked out, “You want more, don’t you? It’s not enough to fill this mouth of yours? Fuck, gonna, gonna-” The words dried up for him. Past communication, he floated, adrift in his body physically but bolted down by the certainty of Michael’s fervor. Unrelenting eagerness and desire for everything.

Alex couldn’t pull his gaze away as he watched the puffy bloom of Michael’s lips work around him, until finally their rhythm faltered, and he lost whatever tenuous hold he had on staving back his orgasm. Alex came, driving deep into Michael’s throat. The response to his loss of control was incandescence between them. The mark seemingly turned white, like phosphorus fire, and he was lost in the echoes of _mine, mine, you’re mine, I’m yours._

Minutes passed, though it wasn’t, it had to be closer to seconds in actuality, as the gentle undulations of Michael swallowing around him brought Alex back to his body and settled him back on that shivering precipice of wanting more but shying away because it was too much. He could feel himself twitch from over stimulation, but he stayed still, his fingers slowly unwinding through their grip to smooth Michael’s curls back into some semblance of order.

“That’s one,” Michael announced, his voice leaving his well-used throat in a rough rasp, but he was still brimming with satisfaction inside Alex. “One of three.”

“Oh god, you’re serious-”

“You said you wanted what I wanted. And I want this. I want to love you so thoroughly, so completely you never forget it. God, I just missed you so much, sweetheart.” The deep need and the pain inflicted from their two month separation was evident in Michael’s voice. As he spoke though, he kept slowly stroking Alex’s still trembling thighs before he moved up over his now sweat-slick body to claim a kiss from Alex. The shared taste of his release was mingled between them. Michael broke the kiss and raised his eyebrow at Alex teasingly to lighten the tone, “I’ve got time to do this right, and you’re all recharged from that serum. We’ll get you there.”

Free-fall it was. Jump day was happening all over again with Michael, but with no parachute. This time there was no worry about hitting the ground. And for once, Alex was wise, and kept any mention of experiencing his imminent death by Michael locked tightly behind his lips.

Michael stole another quick kiss, before he gently urged Alex to turn over on the bed. Pillows moved of their own accord, that handy telekinesis at work again, slipping in to support Alex’s right side as Michael moved Alex closer to the front of the bed. Limbs that were orgasm-dumb and loose, were carefully arranged by Michael’s gentle touch, finally he pressed Alex’s hands on the headboard, encouraging him to hold on to the heavy hardwood board. A nudge of Michael’s knee, spread Alex’s thighs wider, and another pillow appeared, tucking firmly against Alex’s stomach for added balance.

Physically, Alex had never been more purposefully exposed in bed.

The display was wanton, there was no other purpose in his pose. He was an object for sex, a vessel to fill, and the picture of erotic submission. Kneeling with his spread legs, his back canted horizontally toward the headboard, it displayed for Michael, his hole in the most obscene fashion. Shame and that squirming stubborn sense of how he shouldn’t enjoy this so much, started to pour back inside him as he waited to be touched. The mark on his chest powered through, sharing Michael’s frank admiration of him, pushing those doubts away until there were no more forms to be found, to hold that cement-heavy darkness in place. They spilled and scattered away until not a touch of dark was found.

“My turn to tell you how good you look like this,” Michael replied, quiet and knowing. His hands started at Alex’s shoulders, rubbing deep into the muscle with his thumbs. There was no reason for tight muscles, Alex had been floating in a pod for two months, but somehow Michael’s touch unlocked every hidden cache of tension as he worked his strong hands down Alex’s back.

“I can feel it, you’re really enjoying seeing me like this, aren’t you?”

“God yes, you look amazing, Alex. There’s not a part of you I don’t want to touch, but your back is a work of art, and fuck, this ass of yours,” Michael moved his hands downward as he dipped his mouth to trace down Alex’s spine, dropping suckling kisses over each knob of his vertebrae. “This is a feast right here for me.”

“Oh god.”

Michael hummed in smug response to Alex’s prayer. The heat of Michael’s skin kept him from cooling off after their soak, but still Alex greedily pressed back against Michael’s chest, widening his stance as he felt the solid heat move away and the return of Michael’s mouth on his tailbone. He inhaled sharply as Michael hovered about the swell of Alex’s cheeks and his newly revealed cleft.

“Thank you,” Michael murmured against him, his breath rippling over the soft down hair and vulnerable skin.

A ridiculous laugh bubbled in Alex’s throat over the sentiment. Before Alex could argue that he should be the one thanking Michael, that he should be the one voicing his appreciation over how generous Michael was in giving him pleasure, Michael sealed his lips over his hole. The open-mouthed kiss over his opening stole every identifiable word from Alex’s throat, leaving him to gasp almost soundlessly in need.

Once there, Michael wasted no time in increasing his efforts from zero to sixty. His tongue swiped over Alex, rubbing deliciously over the tight furl of skin until he firmed the tip to prod gently for entrance. He couldn’t help but jump a little in reaction. Alex felt Michael flex his grip over his ass to pull him further apart before diving back in with enthusiasm, shredding what little hold Alex had on his sanity.

“Fuck, oh, god, fuck-” Sometime during all of this, Alex was hard again, his cock straining tightly against his stomach as he shuddered under the sensation of Michael’s clever mouth. Like everything Michael did, he did it completely without shame, unrestrained in his eagerness. Alternating between a sloppy swipe of his lips and mouth from the seam of Alex’s testicles to his hole with a wiggling jab of his tongue to open him up, Michael was destroying him.

_So hot. Open up. Let me in._

A slick fingertip joined Michael’s tongue, pressing past the slow unfurl of Alex’s body, moving inside him in concert with the instructive impressions from the handprint. _Open for me._ He exhaled sharply as Michael’s finger slipped in with a slight burn of just saliva easing its way. Pressing his forehead against the bed frame, he angled his hips toward Michael’s finger with his eyes squeezed shut. The edge of discomfort was how Alex liked it, that touch of self-punishment mixed with accepting pleasure. A second finger quickly joined the first.

With one last crook of his tongue between his two fingers, Michael pulled away. A tube of lubricant moved unseen from the bedside drawer to slap into his free hand, “I know you like it like this, but I need to get you wetter for what I want.”

“Yeah?”

Three fingers, now slick with the chill of lube, pushed inside Alex in answer. The burn and rough stretch sent a renewed hum of satisfaction, and before Alex could really focus on how perfectly Michael opened him up without asking, Michael canted his fingers downward to press hard on his prostate.

“Fuck, okay, okay-” Alex’s hips jolted, as a fresh bead of pre-cum dripped from his cock. Michael made a soft pleased sound at his reaction, self-satisfied and possessive delight rolling through the connection. Michael tisked with consideration and repeated the motion, more insistent and deeper inside.

He was going to lose it, he was going to scream, it was all too perfect-

“You can,” Michael urged, “You can come again. I can feel how bad you want to, love.”

A fourth finger, Michael’s broad thumb, traced around his stretched rim. He was not nearly loose enough for it, but the promise of it had Alex panting open-mouthed and hungry for it. He was making so much noise, he realized distantly. Loud, debasing cries of neediness were torn from his throat as Michael kept fucking him with his fingers, full and deep. Alex’s thoughts fractured again with no means of holding on anything dark. His body felt too good, he felt completely whole at the moment. He wasn’t though, he was still three-quarters of a man, what was left after Iraq had coughed him up and his father, then later Clay, had tried to finish him off. Except in the free-fall of Michael opening him up, that fact was too hard for him to remember. Whatever poison that had been left over from his recent ordeal, toxic and lurking in his mind, broke to the surface to drain completely away.

“That’s right, you’re beautiful like this, Alex. So goddamn gorgeous-”

More lube dripped on him as Michael spread his fingers wider, he started to press his thumb against where Alex already felt like he was gaping open. That was enough to send Alex over without a hand on his cock. Alex had closed his eyes, hadn’t he? It was the only answer he had to the impressions of darkness encroaching, of the lights flickering all around them, as he came messily on the pillows below him.

“Good, so good, love. You did so good.” Though it wasn’t something Alex had thought he needed to hear, Michael’s warm praise dripped over his mind, comforting him entirely. Michael kept his fingers inside him, stock-still this time, as he waited for coherency to return to Alex’s lust-blitzed state. “Felt good, didn’t it? Feeling full.”

Alex swallowed hard, trying to rein in his ragged breathing. There was dampness on his cheeks, sweat or tears, he wasn’t sure. He could just taste the salt on his bitten lips. Good felt like an inadequate description. “Still going to fuck me then?”

“If you like.” He made the offer in a quiet, but unruffled tone. There was no hint of urgency from Michael regarding his own pleasure, though it only took a glance to see how hard he was still. The connection, flowing easily through them, still set Alex’s desires above his own. With his free hand, Michael stroked possessively down Alex’s damp back.

“You did say three.”

“I did.”

“I only counted two.”

Michael hummed in acknowledgment, but still kept his fingers inside of Alex, maddeningly still.

Bearing down to squeeze Michael’s fingers, Alex half-laughed and half- threatened, “Come on, you want me to beg?”

“No love, I don’t want you to beg,” Michael assured. Then he pulled away, leaving Alex achingly empty as he reached for the bath towel to wipe his hands clean. Before Alex could muster more than a protesting cry, Michael's alien-warm weight was back, bracketing Alex’s body. His hard cock, sticky-slick with pre-cum painted against Alex’s ass as Michael’s hands came around to cover where Alex was still gripping the headboard. “I want you to feel good, to give me only what you want me to have, so I’m just checkin’ in now.”

“Michael-”

“I’m remembering what you told me before, you wanting to love this body and not being able to fully. Feelin’ like your desire is wrong, or somethin’ you shouldn’t feel.” The mention of that last brutal fight shortly before his entrance to the pod made Alex tense up reflexively, but there were no accompanying feelings of recrimination backing the words, just a gentle understanding brushing against him. “You put on such a strong front for me, for everyone, and all I want is for you to know you don’t have to. And you should definitely love _you_ , like I do.”

Alex blinked hard, feeling the burn of tears suddenly take hold in the wake of such sincerity.

Wordlessly, Michael pried Alex’s steadying grip from the headboard, encouraging Alex to lean back against his strong chest. “I can’t hide the fact that I’m so fuckin’ relieved to have you back, ‘cause I’m sure this handprint is still yellin’ that in your ears, but I don’t want you to get lost in that, and push aside your own wants for me.” He pressed a kiss against his neck, nuzzling the dark sweaty strands of Alex’s hair, as protective heat surrounded Alex in the cage of Michael’s safe arms. Alex tilted his throat toward Michael’s lips, feeling the rumble of words against his skin with the dark sweet promise by Michael, “I could finish right here, against your back,” He punctuated, with a slight shimmy of his hips, rubbing his cock between Alex’s cheeks in a tease. Words and body and that damn mark were fully unraveling Alex bit by bit, as Michael continued, “Fuckin’ paint you with cum like the work of art you are-”

It was far too soon to feel himself getting hard again, Alex thought, as Michael’s erotic words were whispered in his ear. Forget his regime of medications, his distance past seventeen, or the fact he felt like he’d been scraped clean and empty from that last orgasm, it was too soon to feel it, but it was happening regardless. The serum repair, the changes to his DNA made by the pod? God was this what Michael felt like all the time, he wondered.

Anything, everything. He wanted it all from Michael. To be loved forever in this moment.

“Okay,” Michael replied, answering out loud. “I’ll give you everything.” He shifted his hold, moving Alex with a skillful combination of his telekinesis and steady grip, to lay Alex back on wrecked sheets. Flashing a quick smile with an upraised eyebrow at Alex’s renewed erection, Michael bent to lap up the smeared tacky evidence of the last orgasm. Alex gasped again at the touch of Michael’s clever tongue cleaning him up, his shivery muscles pulled tight in response.

Looking down at Michael and his debauched curls, Alex groaned again under the almost torturous task as each drop of cum was cleaned with too-patient care. Before he could find the words to urge him along, Michael pulled away to grab the tube of lubricant again. Even though he was still open and slick, Michael smoothed a new layer of lube over the puffy edges of his rim. He was beyond ready to have Michael inside him.

“Oh you think you’re ready for my dick?”

“Yes, god yes, fuck me.”

The blunt pressure of Michael’s cock pressing at his entrance stole his breath away and scattered all the vague pieces of thoughts Alex had briefly gathered. Thoughts about how the connection felt stronger between them since he had first emerged from the pod. Thoughts about how it felt like Michael was picking up his thoughts when he knew the connection was only one-way. Thoughts about how the lighting from the bedroom lamp was starting to brighten and dim in time with the rapid beat of Alex’s heart but that had to be Michael and the effect from learning to heal.

None of that mattered or registered as overly important to Alex. Not now. He lifted his hips upward off the bed, forearms straining as his core tightened, to encourage the bare press of Michael’s cock further inside. Gasping, he felt himself stretch wider with that burn of entry, the head slipping past his rim before seating snugly in him. Finally.

He couldn’t stop watching Michael, torn as ever between looking at Michael’s face and following his cock where it disappeared inside him. Michael waited for a moment, letting them both adjust, before he grabbed the back of Alex’s thighs with shaking hands and tilted the angle of penetration, rubbing his cock right against Alex’s prostate. That move earned Michael an abrupt muscle clench by Alex, tightening as much as he could around him.

“Fuck, oh, fuck, Alex-”

The long delay in taking his own pleasure was evident on Michael’s face. His lips were bitten and swollen, that ever stubborn curl obscured one eye while his abdomen rippled in obvious restraint as he rocked slowly into Alex. The deeper he moved, the more Alex felt the crackle of electricity in his veins in answer. He tried to tuck his thighs around Michael to beckon him in, Alex’s left foot finding the middle of his back for leverage. He wanted more. More of everything.

“You feel incredible, love,” Michael panted out as he glanced down at where they were joined with wonder. “Look incredible too, stretched around my dick.” Alex squeezed hard in response, drawing out a choked sigh from Michael, and getting a sharp thrust in return. “Yeah, hungry for it, aren’t you-”

Alex lifted his head up to silence that train of filthy words with his mouth, kissing him into silence. The change of angle again made Alex feel as if he would expire from how good it felt, how much deeper Michael seemed to go with each thrust. He bit hungrily at Michael’s lower lip, crying out as Michael picked up his tempo, to slam his hips into Alex. The hands holding his thighs stretched him even wider, the sting snapping like a live wire in his muscles, and just like that, he felt himself back on the precipice of orgasm again.

 _Yes. Like that. Almost there._ It was unclear where that thought originated from, the two of them intertwined both body and spirit through the rip current of the connection.

Michael tipped his head back, breaking the kiss to move his left hand to skim over Alex’s stomach creeping toward the chromatic hue of the hand print. Before, his movements might had been considered gentle, or glancing, even teasing, but that pretense was gone in the madness of the moment. He fucked Alex. Fucked him, and was urged on by Alex’s hands, threading into his curls to grip in ecstasy. Michael slid his own hand further to brace against Alex’s chest. Then. There was a moment where the air grew tight in the room as Michael’s fingers lined up with the mark. Then. It was game over.

_Alex knew death._

The lamp exploded in a shower of sparks.

_Alex knew life._

Michael kept moving, fucking him through his orgasm with his eyes wide with wonder over Alex before he finally stilled, grinding deep inside. “Oh god, I’m- oh god you’re-”

He could feel Michael coming inside him, leaving him as wet and messy as he had before with his fingers. In the shadow of the room while the lamp spit out the crackle of an electric arc. Alex looked up at him, taking in how Michael’s curls haloed his face like a dark crown. He was someone to bend a knee to in fealty, Alex thought, as the ricochet of devotion hopped back and forth between them. Slowly they kissed through the aftershocks, Michael made soft hurt sounds as he finished inside him.

Another zap sounded in the room, cutting through the background soundtrack of their winded bodies.

“Can’t believe you did that to my poor lamp,” Alex teased weakly, shifting with a moue of discomfort as Michael finally pulled out to collapse next to him. “Thankfully it wasn’t an antique or anything.”

“Wasn’t me.”

“Come on, that wasn’t a coincidence, our lamp exploding just as you, you know-”

Michael propped himself up with an elbow, and held his hand out toward the ensuite bathroom. A towel floated like a phantom toward him, draping easily over his hand. With a smirk, Michael nodded toward Alex meaningfully, “That is my power. And I can heal, but electricity is a completely separate ability. It’s not a part of my bag of tricks. Not sure if it ever will be, actually.”

Open-mouthed, Alex blinked absorbing that disclosure. Well. Charlie had mentioned the possibility of the pod leaving him with not just a more alien-oriented DNA profile, but powers as well. Like Rosa. His brain clicked through the possibilities, hardly noticing as Michael cleaned the mess of cum off him with a careful touch. At least until Michael started to touch him where he felt open and tender. A cool fingertip circled his hole, pressing the sticky remains of Michael’s cum back inside him.

The overhead pod light exploded in the bathroom.

“Fuck!” Alex swore, squirming with the hot shivery feeling of Michael’s finger inside him briefly, before Michael drew it away. It didn’t seem possible even with the evidence before him. “Fuck, I really did that. I can fry the coffee pot if you piss me off,” he repeated, thinking about what Charlie had quipped at him months ago.

“Um, that is more of a punishment for you, than me, babe, the way you live on caffeine. Although, as cranky as you get without it, maybe it is a punishment for me,” Michael teased, before the smile slowly slipped into seriousness as he returned to the subject. “Are you okay? I mean, we always knew it was possible that the pod could do this to you, but if this is too much, or um, hitting a trigger, I can make you something with the pollen. Like a bracelet to wear or we can see if Max can help you-”

“Michael, it’s okay.” Glancing down at the hand print, with its colorful alien ripples on his skin, and then over to the smoking remains of the lamp, Alex couldn’t stop the broad smile from breaking out. “I always thought that as long as I was yours, I could handle being a Manes. ‘Cause loving you, it kept that curse away from me. But now I get to be yours _and_ this? I get to be like you? I can’t think of anything better.”

“Oh you're mine, all right, and I’m yours too.” Michael sealed that vow with a kiss, and then Alex rolled on top of him to deepen it eagerly. Their lips slid together with familiarity, and with increasing passion. The short refractory period seemed to be also among the various gifts Alex had now after his resurrection.

_Making sparks fly all over the place, love._

Michael broke the kiss abruptly, and stared into Alex’s dark eyes. “So, one more thing, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you’ve been in and out of my head all evening, talking and responding to my thoughts. And that’s also something I don’t know how to do. The only person who can teach you the basics of that is-” he trailed off, letting Isobel’s name stay unsaid between them.

“So, can you make it a nice bracelet with heavy links, okay? Something tasteful and classic...”

**Author's Note:**

> We had some dark days recently- but in these last days of the Trump Presidency, Indigenous land, sacred land is being sold and transferred by the federal government all over the country. 
> 
> http://apache-stronghold.com/ is working to fight the Oak Flat land exchange to a mining company.


End file.
